


fireworks

by darwinsdonut



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Background Grimmons, Brief Mention of Blue Team, Fireworks, Fourth of July, M/M, Modern AU, Sarge's Unsung Talent for Onomatopeia, Unwritten Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 17:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15176024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darwinsdonut/pseuds/darwinsdonut
Summary: Sarge is a touch exhausted by his team's utter lack of enthusiasm for Fourth of July- until he spots, across the way, someone else just as enthusiastic as he is. It's love at first sight.





	fireworks

_ “BOOM! POW! BOOM!” _

“Sarge, please, the fireworks don’t need vocal sound effects-”

“Don’t harsh my vibe, Simmons, I’m just getting star-  _ KABLOOWIE!” _

“I’m going to get snacks. Grif?”

“Already with you.”

The two boring communists walked off for snacks, leaving Sarge with Donut and Lopez. Lopez just seemed tired; Donut’s star-spangled hot-shorts and red-white-and-blue body glitter  _ implied  _ patriotism, but Sarge had a feeling Donut’s enthusiasm was more to do with having an occasion than love for ‘Murrica. You just didn’t find good ol’ fashioned patriotism anymore. And sure, state of the country today and all, but Fourth of July was Fourth of July! It was a day of freedom, and eagles, and shotguns! Fourth of July wasn’t about President Cheesepuff and his idiot fanatics; Fourth of July was about freedom, democracy, and  _ explosions! _

_ “KABLOOM!”  _ Sarge shouted, fists raised in the air, standing on a park bench at the edge of a baseball field as another firework rocketed up and lit the night sky.

“Boy, I really felt that one explode all the way through me!” Donut exclaimed.

“I’VE GOT A BONER FOR FREEDOM!”

“Me, too!”

“Mierda.”

“KA-”

But Sarge’s voice escaped him, for perhaps the first time in his life, because at that moment he spotted  _ Him. _

Across the baseball field, standing on a park bench, fists raised high, He came into view as a cloud of gunpowder and smoke cleared. Just as Sarge wore red-and-white striped shorts, this sexy eagle man wore blue-with-white-stars shorts. Just as Sarge wore a red Hawaiian button-down patterned with eagles, this gorgeous hitman sniping Sarge’s own heart wore a blue Hawaiian button-down patterned with fireworks. Even their  _ poses  _ were the same. The only differences came in Sarge’s buzzed hair and weathered skin compared to His ponytailed dreads and skin smooth and hued like amber.

Their eyes met through the smoke and he spotted Sarge with a coy curve of his lips while Sarge gaped, dumbfounded in the face of such magnificence.

Sarge’s voice surged back to him in a frenzied patriotic outcry:  _ “MARRY ME!” _

Screaming eagle sounded back: “PLEASED AS PUNCH TO MEET YOU, TOO, SIR!”

Sarge hopped down from his bench and turned to Donut. “Man the fort! Or- whatever you can do that’s like that!”

“I’ll do my  _ best  _ manning, Sarge!”

Sarge couldn’t even bully Donut tonight; Operation: Patriotic Lover was far more urgent. He started around the baseball field, seeing the blue Hawaiian shirt doing the same on the other side. He all but double-timed through the masses, surprisingly crowded for a local show. Sarge kept his eyes on the target, their gazes and grins meeting when possible. 

Sarge found himself soon caught on the outside of a large family group- or maybe not a family, they bickered and looked unrelated, but a familial group. He fought to get around them, almost ran into a tall woman, doubled back- anticipation built- maybe the other side-

“This way!” A girl in yellow who looked suspiciously like Grif had noticed the situation and grabbed Sarge’s arm. She pulled him through as he mumbled thanks, and then-

He was there.

Taller up close and twice as beautiful, he carried a loaf of corn and grinned from ear to ear.

“Corn?”

“To excuse my corny jokes.”

“I think I’m in love.”

The stranger laughed and offered a corn. “Hi, I’m Butch Flowers. I return the sentiment completely.”

“Sarge.”

And he took the corn, shook it, and laughed. Patriotic, tall,  _ and  _ eccentric- Sarge was a simple with simple tastes, and this was it for him, the best that it got.

“Wanna watch this she-bangin’ shindig together?”

Sarge met those eyes by the light of the fireworks. “Can I just say,  _ ‘Hell yeah!’” _

Butch laughed and took his hand, leading him away, and there were fireworks in Sarge’s heart.

 

/-^-\

 

As the dust and explosions cleared off after the climatic grand finale, Sarge caught his breath in the bed of Butch’s pickup truck. He tugged back on his striped shorts, though his new soulmate had parked considerably far back in the woods and he wasn’t too worried about decency.

Butch smiled over at him as the smoke clouded by overhead. “Well, that was…”

“Explosive,” Sarge finished weakly.

“Mm.”

They lay there another moment, button-downs undone, listening to distant crowds disperse in the parking lot.

“Well, s’pose I’ve gotta find my boys,” Sarge sighed.

Butch rolled over and captured Sarge once more in a deep kiss, long fingers gripping the side of Sarge’s muscular abdomen. Sarge grew quickly caught up in the kiss, hands finding Butch’s neck, lips pressing harder, pulling longer-

Butch finally pulled back and sighed contently. “Alright.”

They fixed their shirted, donned their loafers, and hopped out of the bed of the truck. After exchanging numbers and a few more firework-inducing kisses, they finally parted. Butch smacked Sarge’s Liberty Bell ass one last time, and Sarge sent him a final glance before starting off.

As he emerged back in the crowds, he could still taste the freedom on his lips.


End file.
